


Into the Woods

by penguingal, Schnaucl (Onetrackmind)



Category: Numb3rs
Genre: Episode: s02e09 Toxin, Incest, M/M, comment porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-15
Updated: 2006-01-15
Packaged: 2017-11-21 06:33:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/594567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penguingal/pseuds/penguingal, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onetrackmind/pseuds/Schnaucl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a slight reworking of Toxin.  In this story Charlie is kidnapped after Ian finds fresh tracks.  After his rescue, Don admits to his true feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Into the Woods

"Why don't you get back to the hotel," Don said, handing Charlie his keys.  
  
"Okay, but why?"  
  
"Fresh sign," Edgerton called. "One, maybe two hours."  
  
"That's why," Don told him.   
  
Charlie turned immediately and headed for Don's truck. He wasn't trained for this; he'd only be in the way. He barely heard Don telling him to be careful.  
  
When he got back to the car, two of the tires had been slashed. Well, Edgerton had said as much money as the town made off of the FBI agents looking for McHugh, there was still a pretty strong anti-government feeling. Perfect. He couldn't exactly call Don in the middle of a pursuit and besides, he couldn't do anything Charlie couldn't do himself. Cell reception was iffy and sure enough, when he pulled his cell phone out he had a no service message. He could ask to use Mrs. McHugh's phone, but she probably wasn't in a mood to help him and besides, Don would love him talking to her alone.  
  
The cabin was only a few miles away, and he would be heading in the opposite direction of Don and Agent Edgerton. He scrawled a quick note on some paper from his backpack.  
  
 _Went back to the cabin on foot. I'll try to find out about a tow truck or something. -C_  
  
Don and Edgerton caught a ride back to the cabins with the team that had been called in to take McHugh into custody. It was just starting to get dark outside, and Don was fantasizing about a hot shower and a cup of coffee as he walked to his room, only to find the door still locked. He patted himself down quickly, belatedly realizing that he'd given the keys to Charlie. Knocking, he placed his ear to the door, listening for movement within. Nothing.   
  
Frowning, he headed into the bar/lounge. No Charlie there, either. He spotted Edgerton walking by and bounded out to stop him. "Have you seen Charlie anywhere?"   
  
"Not since we parted. Why? Isn't he here?" Edgerton asked, his brow creasing.  
  
"No. And I don't see my truck, either."  
  
Edgerton had been putting his rifle away, but now he pulled it out again, checking his sights and ammunition. "Let's go. We better try and find him before it gets much darker."  
  
Charlie tried to be careful on the way back to the cabins. Don and Agent Edgerton might be on McHugh's trail, but there was still that second sniper out there somewhere. There was no way to tell if he was still in the area. But even so, he didn't have any warning before something hit him in the back of the head.  
  
....  
  
The truck was right where Don and Edgerton had left it, in front of McHugh's property. He saw the slashed tires first, and his panic was quelled only marginally by Charlie's note.   
  
"Don, over here," Edgerton called, a few paces away and heading off vaguely in the direction they'd come.  
  
....  
  
His head hurt and it was dark. He winced and tried to bring a hand up to feel the back only to realize that he was restrained. All at once he remembered, walking on the trail something had hit him.  
  
"Good, you're awake."  
  
....  
  
Don followed Edgerton silently as he tracked Charlie through the forest, apprehension and an ugly fear settling in his stomach. _If something had happened..._ no, he wouldn't let himself think about that now. There'd be plenty of time for blaming himself later, after he'd found his brother.   
  
Edgerton had come to a stop and was crouching over a particular spot, looking closely at the dirt. Even Don could see the footprints had stopped and there were drag marks disappearing into the brush.   
  
"Blood," Edgerton said solemnly, tracing a spot in the dirt. It was just a spatter, but it was enough to make Don's heart sink and his pulse beat harder simultaneously.   
  
"How many do you think?" Don asked as he pulled his phone out.   
  
"Two, maybe three." He looked at Don, the worried crease of his brow and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We'll find him, Don."  
  
....  
  
Charlie licked dry lips, trying to force down his fear. "Who--who's there?"  
  
"Not information you need to worry about," a man said, his face swimming into Charlie's field of vision as a muzzle was placed under his chin. "You're just bait. And everyone knows, bait doesn't talk." He struck Charlie across the cheek, making him lose consciousness again.  
  
....  
  
"No reception," Don said. He still had his radio from chasing McHugh and he sent a request for backup. He forced himself to think about this the same way he would about any other case. He wasn't going to do Charlie any good if he couldn't focus. Why would someone take his little brother?  
  
Edgerton's eyes searched the ridge above them. Responding to the question Don hadn't asked he said, "There's still a lot of anti-government types running around out here. Must have seen Charlie with us." He pulled a map from his pocket and searched the ridge again.   
  
"There's a ranch not too far over the other side of that ridge. Not too close, but close enough to drag an unconscious person."  
  
Nodding, Don radioed back, and followed the sniper-tracker deeper into the brush.  
  
....  
  
When Charlie woke the second time he stayed silent. Everything hurt and when he looked around everything seemed slightly out of focus. He tried to tell himself it was just the dim lighting. It was cold, too. And he was terrified. These people were after his brother, and they were armed.  
  
....  
  
The rapidly growing darkness worked both for and against them. At least the people in the ranch would have a harder time seeing them, but it meant that seeing their own way was problematic. Edgerton found some material that looked like it was from the hooded sweatshirt Charlie had been wearing and they were fairly certain that Charlie was inside. Anger, red hot and searing clouded Don's vision and he grabbed Edgerton's shoulder.  
  
"Edgerton--Ian, I'm, uh, I'm not sure..."  
  
"I've got it, Don," Edgerton said, taking the radio from his fingers. Their backup came over the ridge quietly, lights off, and when they got there, Edgerton took charge.  
  
He heard a loud noise, shouts of "FBI." _Don._ And he was supposed to be the bait. He thought he heard a gunshot just as the door to his room slammed open. But it wasn't the FBI, wasn't his brother or even Edgerton.   
  
His captor pressed cold steel against his temple and cocked his gun. Terror gripped him more strongly than anything he'd felt before.   
  
"You just became my ticket out of here, bait."  
  
The man dragged him, still bound from his room and he blinked against the sudden lights. Flood lights from outside lit up the dim cabin like Shea Stadium. He squinted but could only make out vague shapes and not actual people. Screaming, everyone was screaming, the man in his ear, FBI agents in front of him, and Charlie closed his eyes, just praying it would stop and he'd be alive at the end of it.   
  
"I'm not telling you again, let go of your hostage, put your weapon on the ground, and get down on your knees with your hands on your head!" a voice yelled. Charlie couldn't tell whom it belonged to.  
  
"Fuck you! You're going to back the fuck off and let me out of here or he gets a bullet in his brain!" The man shoved the gun hard against his skin and Charlie could feel the tension in the weapon mirrored in the man next to him.   
  
A shot rang out and Charlie fell, his ears ringing. Something wet landed on his skin. More shouting and rough hands were pulling him up, checking quickly for wounds, and pulling him away. "Suspect down! Suspect down! I'm bringing the hostage out!" _Edgerton_. His hands were tight around Charlie's waist, and he didn't think much of leaning into the strong man, his legs suddenly weak and refusing to obey him. The lights were switched off with a thunk and Charlie blinked again, looking for the source of the sound of running feet.  
  
"Charlie!" Don shouted, reaching Edgerton a second later and pulling his brother into his arms.  
  
"Don," Charlie managed, just before collapsing against him. He held onto Don as tightly as he could, his body shaking with emotions he was struggling not to show.  
  
"Are you all right? Are you okay?" Don demanded, his hands performing the same rough inspection that Charlie had been through moments before.  
  
"I-I'm okay," he gasped, wiping at the wet substance on the side of his face and neck, belatedly realizing it must have been his abductor's blood. "Not mine. Not my blood." He paused, trembling, his voice close to breaking. "I'm s-sorry."  
  
Don wrapped his arms around Charlie tightly, resolving then and there never to let him go again if he could help it. He petted Charlie's back, his fingertips brushing his hair, and seeking out the steady thud of his pulse. "Shh, buddy. Easy. I've got you. It's okay now," he murmured, only lifting his eyes when Edgerton eased into view. "Thanks," Don said softly.  
  
"You're welcome," Edgerton replied, voice equally soft.   
  
He didn't ever want to move again. Wanted to stay safe and protected in Don's arms. But he didn't want to stay outside the cabin where those men--those dead men--suddenly he felt nauseous. "Don," he said urgently.  
  
Don led him back behind the row of trucks where he could be shielded from concerned but prying eyes and rubbed his back as he retched into the dirt at his feet.  
  
"Is he okay?" Edgerton asked, just poking his head around the corner. Moving more on instinct than anything, Don moved to protect his brother, feeling a little foolish but Edgerton showed no sign of being remotely surprised by the move.  
  
"He'll be all right. Just the shock, I think. I should get him back to the cabin."  
  
Edgerton nodded. "Get in. I'll drive."  
  
"You don't have to--"  
  
"He's going to need you. I'll drive."  
  
The ride to the cabin was a blur. Charlie was aware only of Don's arms around him, keeping him safe. He couldn't focus, couldn't think properly, but he wasn't sure he wanted to.   
  
Don pet his hair, murmuring soothing nonsense words. Charlie looked down at his hand, at Don's shirt stained with smears of blood. "There's blood on your shirt," he said inanely.  
  
He pressed his chin into Charlie's hair and smiled a little. "I know. It'll be okay." He wanted to do so much more than just hold him. He wanted to press kisses to his face, put his hands on his skin just to confirm to himself that it was warm and alive. These vague yearnings had pulled at him before and he'd largely ignored them, but there was nothing like blind panic to throw your emotions into sharp relief.  
  
When they reached the cabin, Don pulled Charlie out gently, giving him all the support he needed as they made their way to the room. Someone had clearly called ahead, and the manager handed him a brand new key to the brand new lock that had just been put on the door that evening. Once inside, Don locked the door, and put the chain on before depositing Charlie onto on of the beds. He immediately curled into a fetal position and Don's heart went out to him. Without thinking, he climbed in behind him and put his arms around his waist, pulling him close like he used to when they were children.  
  
Charlie wrapped his arms around Don and finally let go. The tiny bed shook with the force of his sobs and once he started he couldn't seem to stop. He'd been so terrified and even when he'd heard the FBI break in he'd been afraid for Don, not knowing what his captors had planned.  
  
"That's it, Charlie. Just let it out," Don murmured, making no attempt to quiet him. He tightened his arms around his brother and held on, whispering nonsense to him just to let him know he was there, that he was okay. "I'm sorry, buddy. I'm so sorry."  
  
If it wasn't for him, Charlie would never have been in that position. It was his fault that his brother was now falling apart in his arms. And he had no idea how to make it up to him.  
  
Charlie cried until he couldn't cry any more. His throat and eyes burned and his nose ran. His thoughts were still slow and muffled and he wasn't sure if it was from shock, or exhaustion or the blow to the back of the head.   
  
He needed Tylenol. He needed a shower to wash off the blood. He needed sleep and there was probably some kind of statement he was supposed to make. He couldn't make himself even ask about any of it, let alone move to actually do it.  
  
As Charlie's sobs slowed and eventually stopped, Don cautiously brushed the hair out of his eyes. Charlie was staring blankly at the wall, his eyes glassy and unfocused. He was a mess. Without saying much, he climbed off the bed, stripped Charlie of his socks and shoes, and pulled him up into a sitting position. His brother was pliant, nearly limp in his hands.  
  
"C'mon, buddy, let's get you cleaned up, okay?"  
  
Charlie allowed Don to maneuver him as he wanted. He made a soft sound of pain when Don touched the back of his head.  
  
"Sorry," Don murmured, immediately contrite.   
  
"Hit me," Charlie said, by way of explanation. Come to think of it, he'd probably have an ugly bruise on his face, too.  
  
"It's okay, Charlie," Don murmured, propping him against the edge of the sink as he started to help him pull his clothes off. "Did--did they do anything else? Say anything?" He bit his lip. "I hate asking, and if you don't want to talk about it now, fine, just..." He trailed off as more and more of his brother's flesh was revealed, surprisingly well-defined muscles and warm, caramel flesh. There were bruises on his arms from where they'd dragged him. Don's thumb trailed over them gently and a heady mix of anger and lust coursed through him. He coughed, pulling away to run the hot water in the shower.  
  
He started to shake his head and then thought the better of it when pain flared. "Just that I was bait. And bait doesn't talk. It's when he hit me again. Was unconscious most of the time, I think."  
  
Don nodded as he ran his fingers under the water, testing the temperature. That was mostly in line with what he'd been told by Edgerton afterwards. He looked from the tub back to Charlie, who had managed to get his jeans open and off his legs. He stood gaping for a moment before coming back to himself.  
  
"You going to be okay on your own? I'll help if you need me to." He put his arm on Charlie's shoulder and ducked his head to get his eyes. "I really am sorry. This is all my fault."  
  
Still hard to think but he had to say this before Don convinced himself. "Wasn't your fault, Don. What was your alternative, to bring me on the hunt for McHugh? Leave Agent Edgerton without backup?" He swallowed. "Could you stay with me?"  
  
He knew Charlie was right, that he'd done the right thing under the circumstances, but still, if he wasn't the brother of an FBI agent, he'd never have been up on that mountain in the first place. This was a game Don often played, wondering what Charlie's life would be like if he were other than he was. Taking a deep breath, he realized he'd work on beating himself up later but right now, Charlie needed him. "What do you need me to do?"  
  
"Just, stay with me?" He thought he might have a concussion and besides, he _really_ didn't want to be alone right now. "Please."  
  
"Okay, Charlie," Don whispered, leaning against the door and doing his best to avert his eyes as Charlie finished stripping and maneuvered slowly into the shower. There was no denying now that he wanted Charlie, wanted to hold him and love him and keep him safe. And instead of being horrified by the idea, it seemed to make all too-perfect sense. But it wasn't exactly something that Don could just bring up, and in his current state, it wasn't something that Don wanted Charlie to try and focus on. Instead, he babbled about McHugh, about how they had managed to talk him out of the dump without blowing anything up, hoping that just the sound of his voice would help.  
  
Charlie half listened to Don's voice, needing most of his attention to stay standing upright in the shower. He felt absolutely exhausted. "We have to tell Dad, don't we?"  
  
Sighing, Don pinched the bridge of his nose, almost absently searching his pockets for a stick of gum. "I don't want to, but it's probably best that we do. You could have a concussion from that blow to the back of your head and it'd be hard to explain away that bruise on your cheek." It had already started to swell and purple as Don had helped Charlie undress. "I should probably get you looked at when you're done in there, just to be safe."  
  
"Yeah. Could use Tylenol. Maybe ice. Head feels stuffy. We staying here tonight?" He hoped they were, he didn't feel like sitting in a car for hours. Mostly he wanted to curl up and go to sleep, preferably with Don somewhere nearby.  
  
"We can if you want to, just let me make a phone call and check on something." Don wanted to be sure he knew exactly what he needed to do to make sure Charlie was okay. He thought he remembered something about not letting someone with a concussion fall asleep, but he wasn't sure. A quick phone consultation and he was back, grabbing Tylenol out of his First Aid kit. "Yeah, we can stay here. I'm sure you want to get some sleep, but I have to wake you every couple of hours. I'm sorry about that, but I don't want anything worse to happen to you." Don's voice was very small and not his normal confident self.  
  
"Don--this isn't your fault. And nothing will happen to me now, because you're here." He yawned and waited for Don to hand him a glass of water before he swallowed the pills. "Can we push the beds together? Maybe you could watch TV or something while I sleep."  
  
Don ducked his head and smiled a little at the confidence that Charlie had in him. "Yeah, yeah we can do that," he said softly trying to shove aside the mental images of the two of them pressed against each other on one bed. He pulled at the beds, matching them up and covering them with one set of sheets. Charlie had only put his boxers back on and Don had to fight the flush and the reaction of his body down as he climbed into bed. Don climbed in next to him, keeping some semblance of a respectful distance between them, though he wanted nothing more than to wrap himself around his brother and kiss his skin.  
  
Charlie climbed under the covers and almost immediately fell into a deep, thankfully dreamless sleep. He didn't wake until he felt Don's hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Sorry, buddy," Don immediately apologized as soon as he saw Charlie's eyes flutter open. "It's okay, go back to sleep." He caressed Charlie's skin until his brother sighed and stilled again. Passionate images of the same action floated to him and he battled them away again. Now was not the time, if there ever was one. Charlie was vulnerable and there was no way Don would take advantage of it. So they passed the night that way, Don watching him carefully and waking him every few hours until morning. When he woke him in the morning sunlight, Charlie stretched languidly and curled against him, blinking his eyes open.   
  
"Feeling better?" Don asked, brushing his curls aside.  
  
"Yeah," Charlie said, offering a smile. He knew there would be lingering effects from his captivity, but at least he was feeling better physically. "Thanks for staying with me."  
  
"Anytime, buddy." Don returned the smile, glad to see a little of the spark returning to Charlie's eyes. They dressed quietly, if not quickly, and made their way back to the car and eventually, home. He walked in with Charlie, and after much family discussion wherein Don blamed himself and Charlie argued effectively that there was no other choice, he was finally able to return to his own apartment.  
  
He tossed his gear in a corner and flopped on the couch, dozing off almost at once from his lack of sleep the night before. If he was the kind of person who remembered dreams, he might be unsurprised to find that they were all filled with Charlie.  
  
It was almost a week later when Charlie showed up on Don's doorstep at 2:00 am. He knocked lightly on Don's door. If his brother was up he might hear it, if he were sleeping, he'd probably never know Charlie had been there.  
  
Don muted the television and listened, thinking he might have heard a soft knock on his door. He went to check and was startled to find his brother standing uncertainly on his doorstep. "Charlie? What's going on? Are you okay?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm okay. I just--couldn't sleep."  
  
Looking Charlie over carefully, Don noted the dark circles under his eyes and the tense line of his body. It seemed he hadn't been able to sleep for a while. He put a comforting hand on Charlie's neck and pulled him inside. "Come on, buddy." Don massaged the tense muscles with his hand as he ushered his brother over to the couch and felt them start to relax.  
  
"Do you want to talk about it?"  
  
"I've um--I've been having nightmares," he confessed quietly. Don's hand on his neck felt wonderful. The warmth and the gentle pressure soothed him.  
  
Fresh rage at the men--the dead men--that had caused his brother this pain slammed through him, though he managed to keep his voice neutral. "Well, that's pretty normal. You went through a traumatic event, Charlie, that kind of stuff doesn't just go away." He paused. "Do--do you want to stay here tonight? Maybe I can help chase those nightmares away." His voice had a suggestive note to it and he coughed, hoping that Charlie hadn't noticed.  
  
"I'd like that," Charlie said softly. "Feels good," he added. "The massage, I mean. What are you watching?"  
  
"Just some movie. Come here." Don positioned them so Charlie was nestled in the V of his legs and he could put both hands on his shoulders. During training at Quantico, Edgerton taught all the cadets some easy relaxation techniques, including manipulating the nerves in the back and shoulders, and Don put that knowledge to good use now, feeling Charlie start to go nearly limp in his hands. He guided Charlie back to rest on his chest as he continued rubbing his shoulders. Charlie's body was warm against his, his breath ghosting along the skin at his jaw, his scent comforting and familiar. Don's lips found Charlie's throat all on their own.  
  
Charlie was drowsing, nearly asleep when he felt Don's lips on his throat. "Don?" he asked softly.  
  
It was a moment before Don realized what he had done. Thankfully, Charlie didn't tense up again in his hands. He swallowed hard, but let his hands stay on Charlie's shoulders. "Yeah. Um." He didn't know what to say, so he opted for saying nothing at all, pressing his lips to Charlie's in a small, chaste kiss.  
  
Charlie hesitated and then kissed Don back, still mostly chaste. He claimed a second kiss before pulling back and licking his lips, picking up an unfamiliar taste. "What just happened?"  
  
"I kissed you. And then you kissed me back. Twice." Don said, slightly stunned. He hadn't been expecting that.  
  
"Okay but why did you kiss me?"  
  
"Because I love you." The words fell from Don's lips easily, more naturally than they ever had before, and he spared a moment to be surprised. "I'm in love with you. Have been for--well, for a while now and I never thought, never would have dreamed..." He shook his head.  
  
"You're in _love_ with me?" He wasn't disgusted or horrified like he should have been; it was more like--surprise.  
  
"Yeah. That's not strange is it?" Don asked, aiming for light but hitting somewhere around flippant. "When we realized what had happened, I just--" he pressed a hand to his heart. "Panic, murderous rage, abject terror. And then when Edgerton pulled you out, I didn't want to let go of you. Not ever." He shrugged. It wasn't an explanation. Wasn't anything like one, but it was the best he could do.  
  
"Is that--is that all this is?" Charlie asked, not entirely sure what he hoped to hear. "Residual emotion from the kidnapping? Or is it something else?"  
  
"No." Don shook his head emphatically. "No, this started before the kidnapping. Long before. It just took you being in danger to bring it into focus." His thumb stroked Charlie's skin and he looked into his eyes, asking him silently to believe him, trust him.  
  
Charlie nodded. "And--what is it that you want?" he asked quietly.  
  
"I want--" he paused, knowing he was going to sound ridiculous, "I want to love you, in every sense of the word. I want to hold you, touch you, kiss you..." Don trailed off, hoping Charlie would follow that thought to its logical conclusion. Just being this close to him was intoxicating now and already Don could feel the need starting to course through his veins.  
  
"You want to fuck me." A statement, not a question.  
  
"No. Well, yes... I mean..." Don sighed, flustered. "I want to make love to you. We'll save fucking for next time." A wicked smile crossed his lips and he had to fight not to lean in and claim Charlie's mouth.  
  
"You're awfully sure of yourself," Charlie teased. In truth, he wasn't sure what he thought yet.  
  
He froze. "I-I thought... you kissed me back, Charlie. You did. That has to mean something."  
  
"Maybe it does. I--didn't---shit. Look, this is all very new to me, okay?"  
  
Don shook his head. "We don't have to talk about this now. You're still not 100% and you came over here for comfort, not for--" he gestured between them vaguely "not for this." Easing back, he put a little distance between their bodies, just then realizing how close he'd been sitting. The move was for his own good more than Charlie's. He had to do something to decrease the temptation.  
  
"One condition. Just because we don't talk about it tonight does _not_ mean we'll never talk about it again."  
  
"Look, I love you. I'm _in_ love with you and I don't anticipate that changing anytime soon, so you better believe I'm not letting this go. Because you kissed me back." His voice was gentle but it left no room for argument, too. Charlie had provided him with a small, fragile hope and he clung to it.  
  
Charlie nodded. "Can I still stay here tonight? I can sleep on the couch."  
  
"Yes, you can stay here tonight. No, you are not sleeping on the couch. Don't argue with me, Charlie," he said preemptively. "You're exhausted and you need real sleep. Take my bed. I'll be right here if you need me." Don settled himself into the couch cushions, daring Charlie to try and move him.  
  
"Don, I'm not kicking you out of your own bed. Surely we can share a bed like mature adults without anything--and just sleep."  
  
"Charlie," Don sighed, "it's not about--it's self-preservation okay? I'm not totally sure I _could_ just sleep with you next to me." He looked at his feet propped on the coffee table, a small note of misery in his voice.  
  
Charlie's eyes widened. "Okay, um--is watching some of the movie okay?" He didn't want to go to bed with this--this weirdness between them.  
  
"Make yourself at home," he smiled, trying to be reassuring. "You're still my brother, Charlie, no matter what else happens. Got it?" He settled back into the cushions, staring at the flickering light and doing his best not to let Charlie's proximity distract him. He had it bad, worse than he'd ever imagined, and it was an effort to relax. Truthfully, he hadn't had much solid sleep since the kidnapping, but for an entirely different reason.  
  
Charlie watched the movie until the credits rolled. He'd already been fighting sleep for a long time, but he waited until things felt at least sort of normal again before getting up the couch and yawning. "G'night, Don," he said, squeezing Don's shoulder briefly.  
  
"Good night, buddy," Don said softly, watching his brother cross his apartment. "I'm right out here if you need me."   
  
Charlie nodded as he disappeared into the bedroom. He woke himself up yelling Don's name. His heart was pounding and he was covered in sweat and even awake he wasn't completely free of the nightmare. Adrenaline brought by terror continued to course through his veins.  
  
Don came running into the bedroom, hair disheveled, and blinking sleep out of his eyes. He immediately wrapped his arms around Charlie's shoulders, whispering soothing nonsense in his ear and stroking his curls. It was something their mother used to do to calm him and nothing else ever worked quite as well. "It's okay, Charlie. I'm here. I'm right here. You're safe. Safe with me."  
  
"Don!" Charlie whispered his brother's name and held tightly as the world slowly started to reassert itself. He was in Don's apartment, in Don's bed. Safe.  
  
"I'm right here," Don repeated. Hesitating a moment to climb into the bed with him, he ultimately decided anything he had to do to get Charlie calmed down was more important than his own fears. He'd keep a tight rein. He had to. Pulling Charlie against him, he cradled him softly. "Do you want to tell me about it?"  
  
"Being hunted. In the forest," he said haltingly. "They were going to kill me if they caught me."  
  
He clutched at his brother, wishing he knew how to drive these fears and dreams away for good. "Maybe--maybe you need to talk to somebody about what happened? Someone professional?" Don didn't think much of psychologists and psychiatrists himself, but he wasn't going rule anything out that might help Charlie.  
  
"Maybe," he said quietly. He wasn't really ready to commit either way. "I'm sorry I woke you up."  
  
"Hey, it's what I'm here for," he said mildly, starting to extract himself from Charlie's grip. His body urged him to stop fighting, to give in and sink into the warmth of Charlie's body wrapped in his sheets, but he couldn't. It would be a betrayal of the trust Charlie had placed in him to keep him safe, warm, and comfortable tonight. That was Don's mission and he was sticking to it. "Do you want me to stay until you're asleep again?"  
  
He badly wanted to say yes. But he was nearly 30; he shouldn't be scared of the dark anymore. "I'll be okay. Thanks though."  
  
"Okay," Don smiled. He, rather surreally, tucked the sheets around Charlie and headed out of the room. Watching as Charlie got comfortable, he lingered in the doorway until his brother's breathing evened out and he was relatively sure he was sleeping again. One last look over his shoulder, and Don forced himself to leave, closing the door behind him.  
  
....  
  
It was a little past 2:00 am when Charlie knocked on the door to Don's apartment. It seemed fitting somehow that he should do it this way. He knocked again a little louder when his first knock wasn't immediately answered.  
  
Disheveled and only partly dressed, Don shuffled to the door, a little surprised to find Charlie standing there. Again. "More nightmares?"  
  
"Nope, still nightmare free for nearly 11 days. I actually came over to talk. Can I come in?"  
  
"It's after 2 in the morning," Don protested, but he nodded and stepped aside to let Charlie in anyway. "If you're sleeping okay, then what did you want to talk about?" He was still only half awake and he punctuated this sentence with a large yawn.  
  
"Sex," Charlie said, dropping down onto Don's couch.  
  
That woke Don up faster than three cups of espresso. He froze, looking at his brother, relaxing and smiling in a maddeningly impish manner, a distinct contrast from the way he'd shown up at his door almost a month ago. "In general or was there something specific?" he asked, clearing his throat and forcing himself to start moving again.  
  
Charlie laughed. "Do you really think I came over here for a talk about the birds and the bees?"  
  
"I hope not." He looked carefully at Charlie, trying to figure out what had happened that he'd want to talk about this _now_. "And this couldn't have waited until a more decent hour? One that had sunlight maybe?" Charlie just kept smiling that same way, and he was awake enough now for his heart to begin skipping beats when he looked at him. "It's been almost a month... why now?"  
  
"Because it's been almost a month," Charlie said, sobering. "Long enough that I can be sure that what I'm feeling is real and not just--warped gratitude for saving me."  
  
Don bit. "Okay, so what are you feeling?" Charlie being here was a pretty good indication that he was feeling _something_ but damn it, it was 2 a.m. and he was actually going to make his little brother say it. The last month had been nearly torture. He'd had to cut his nails short to keep from leaving bruises in his palms and he wasn't going to even think about the kinds of dreams he'd been having. So, if he could at all help it, he had every intention of making Charlie sweat a little.  
  
"I--I'm feeling like I want to give this--us, a try. If you still want to."  
  
"Us? To what, exactly, are you referring, Charlie?" Don kept his tone carefully neutral. "Because it's a little too early in the morning for you to be vague."  
  
Charlie fought to keep the smile from his face. Don could be adorable when grumpy. "Maybe I should come back after you've had your beauty sleep."  
  
"Just tell me why you're here, Charlie," he purred, leaning in slightly. Charlie was stubborn, but Don had years of practice before he'd come along.  
  
"I'm here because I love you. I'm in love with you. And I want you the same way you want me."  
  
Without waiting more than a heartbeat, Don wrapped a hand around Charlie's neck and pulled him in, kissing him deeply. Euphoria and relief flooded his system and he found himself grinning into the kiss. "There. Was that so hard?" he smirked.  
  
Charlie made a soft sound of pleasure and then pinched the skin above Don's hip. "You knew this whole time you rat bastard!" he said, grinning.  
  
"Of course I knew! Or at least I hoped that was the reason you turned up on my doorstep wanting to talk about sex at 2 in the morning." He leaned forward, pressing his mouth to Charlie's again, slower this time, his tongue sweeping his brother's lower lip, requesting entrance.  
  
Charlie immediately opened his mouth, playing gently with Don's tongue. He made soft sounds of pleasure, need, and want.  
  
Don kissed him thoroughly, his tongue exploring all the new places open to him, echoing sounds coming from his own throat. When they finally broke apart, he was a little flushed, his fingers twined in Charlie's curls. "God," he whispered, the intensity of the emotions swirling through him surprising. "Do-do we actually need to talk? Or was that just part of the preamble?"  
  
"Definite preamble," Charlie said immediately, already leaning in for another kiss. This time he was the one wanting entrance.  
  
"Wait," Don said, placing his hands on Charlie's shoulders, though it killed him a little do to so. "I have to be sure. _You_ have to be sure. Because there's no going back after this. Not for me, and I'd bet not for you, either. I meant what I said before, you're my brother above everything. Is this really what you want?"  
  
"Yes," Charlie said quietly, seriously. "This is really what I want. And you're right, you're my brother above everything."  
  
Don cupped Charlie's face, studying it's familiar contours for a moment and letting his thumb trace his cheekbone before closing the distance between them again. He let Charlie control the kiss, pressing close to him and letting his hands roam along his back and sides.  
  
Charlie tasted and moaned softly and pulled Don back toward the bedroom. "I love you."  
  
"I love you, too," Don replied, following him into his bedroom, his bed still rumpled from restless sleep. His hands slid under Charlie's t-shirt to tease at the line of hairs on his belly. "Mmm... you're wearing too many clothes."  
  
"So are you," Charlie said, grinning as he ran his hand along Don's bare chest.  
  
Don grinned back, making short work of divesting Charlie of his shirt and himself of his pajama bottoms. He'd not been wearing anything under them, and though they were loose around his swelling cock, he was still glad to be rid of them. Maneuvering Charlie where he wanted him, Don kissed his way down Charlie's chest until he was sitting on the edge of the foot of the bed. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he murmured as his fingers traced the skin just above the waistband of Charlie's jeans before opening them slowly.  
  
"I'm just sorry it took me so long to realize," Charlie said softly, drinking in the sight of his brother. "God, you're amazing."  
  
Lifting his head, Don pulled Charlie down into a fevered, passionate kiss. "So are you," he murmured against his lips before turning his focus back to his task. Slowly, he pulled Charlie's jeans down his legs, followed by his boxers, his fingers teasing the wiry hairs on his calves as he moved to cup Charlie's ass. His eyes never leaving his brother's face, Don wrapped a sure, steady hand around Charlie's cock, stroking languidly a few times before sucking just the head into his mouth.  
  
Charlie eyes fluttered closed briefly, his hands gripping Don's shoulders tightly. "Oh God, Don!"  
  
Smiling a little, Don took Charlie deeper, his tongue teasing the sensitive ridge. He reveled in the reactions of Charlie's body to his touch. His own need pounded at him, and he sucked one last time on Charlie's cock before urging him to climb onto the bed. Lying down, he pulled Charlie on top of him, giving him access.  
  
Charlie shuddered as Don withdrew. Charlie licked and sucked and nipped, licking a long stripe and then blowing gently or sparking along the same path with blunt fingernails, trying to coax responses from Don's body.  
  
Don squirmed and gasped, moaning each time Charlie's fingers stuttered over his sensitive areas. His hands caressed Charlie's skin. The inevitable question was on his lips, and he almost didn't want to ask, didn't want to break the mood of this perfect moment but he had to. "God, you are so beautiful," he gasped. "Want you so much. Have-have you done this before? With a man?" His voice barely made it above a whisper.  
  
"Yes," Charlie said, voice equally soft. He didn't elaborate, now wasn't the time or the place.  
  
Eyes wide, Don paused, looking closely at his brother. He almost felt like he should have known that. Nodding, he returned his mouth to caress whatever skin of Charlie's he could reach, his fingers dipping below his waist to tease at the cleft of his ass, making Charlie buck against him.  
  
Charlie gasped and moaned. "Don--have you? Done this before?"  
  
Choosing to keep his reply as simple as his brother's, Don pulled Charlie down and kissed him. "Yes."  
  
Charlie nodded. He wasn't interested in knowing the rest, not right now. He kissed Don tenderly, trying to show him everything he was feeling.  
  
As Don returned the kiss, it quickly turned from tender into one filled with need. He rolled gently, putting Charlie on his back and settling between his legs. "Tell me what you like, what you want, Charlie," Don whispered, brushing his brother's hair from his face.  
  
"I want you," Charlie said softly, searching Don's dark brown eyes. "That's all that matters."  
  
Nodding, Don reached across his brother to dig in the nightstand, placing an old, half-empty bottle of lubricant and a condom nearby. Charlie looked at the materials and bit back a smirk.   
  
"Hey, it's not like I do this a lot," Don commented lightly, rubbing his hand low along Charlie's stomach, his fingers teasing the short hairs that led down to where his cock stood, begging for attention. He paused long enough to slick his fingers generously before continuing to tease Charlie's skin, testing and retesting the reactions he got in each sensitive area. His brother gasped when the first finger nudged at his entrance.  
  
Charlie was already moaning and writhing when Don's finger entered him and he clamped down hard on the instinct to push, to force Don's finger deeper before he was really ready for it. He _had_ done this before, but not for a long time.   
  
He wrapped his legs around Don, kissing whatever skin he could reach.  
  
He could feel Charlie's body relax and adjust to his probing touch and after a short while, Don felt confident enough to add a second finger. He crooked his fingers, seeking the spot deep inside Charlie, earning him a string of curses as Charlie arched in intense pleasure. Don eased back, adding a third finger more slowly, pushing into him until his name dripped from Charlie's lips. Convinced he was ready at last, Don repositioned himself between Charlie's legs, slicked his cock, and nudged at his entrance, seeking permission.  
  
Charlie stilled, letting his passion cool just a little. He wanted to be clear headed, wanted Don to know he was clear headed. "Yes," he whispered. "Please, Don."  
  
"I love you," Don whispered as he pushed deep inside, his eyes rolling back and the tight, hot feel of Charlie wrapped around him.  
  
Charlie closed his eyes briefly in pleasure and then forced them open again, wanting to see Don's reaction. "Love you too."  
  
He started to move, thrusting long and slow, wanting to see how the slide and friction of skin on skin affected Charlie, to see how much he needed this in the arch of his body and the droop of his eyelids. Working his way between them, Don wrapped a hand around Charlie's cock, stroking him in time with his steady, almost languid thrusts.  
  
Charlie moaned and arched, panting as his hands stroked Don's body restlessly, wanting, needing something he couldn't quite articulate except as "more."  
  
Don could feel the urgency pooling at the base of his spine and he sped up his thrusts, angling to hit Charlie's prostate over and over. "God, Ch-Charlie," he grunted. "Feel--feels so good."  
  
Charlie cried out, incoherent with pleasure. He couldn't concentrate on anything else, not even the sound of Don's voice. There was nothing but the pleasure and his brother's body.  
  
"Charlie!" Don gasped, his orgasm rushing over him almost unexpectedly. He thrust into his brother one last time, just holding as he shuddered through his release.  
  
"Don!" Charlie echoed his brother's cry as he came, holding on as tightly as he dared. The giddy laughter was entirely unexpected but Charlie didn't try to keep it in. He was happy.  
  
Grinning, Don kissed Charlie's thighs as he extracted himself from his brother's body, disposing of the condom. He sighed, contented beyond all measure. "I-I'm glad you're here," he said, nuzzling Charlie's curls. "I'm curious though, was there any one thing that made you realize, that decided things for you?"  
  
"Not any one thing," Charlie said after a moment. "An accumulation of things. Of a lifetime," he said shyly. "And you?"  
  
"About the same," Don said softly. "You know this is just going to make our lives complicated, right?"  
  
"Yeah. But I think we can handle it. And I know it will be worth it."  
  
"You're just saying that because the sex was--astounding," Don grinned, pinching lightly at his brother's skin.  
  
"Hey!" Charlie yelped, squirming. "Only astounding? Clearly we'll have to try again. Practice does make perfect." And he rolled on top of him, kissing him passionately.


End file.
